Beth Surdut: Paying Attention is an Art

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Meet Beth Surdut: Environmental Artist, Textiles Painter, and Writer. I had the pleasure of meeting this deeply spiritual and deeply earthed woman, during a recent gallery reception for her wildlife art.

Creator of "The Art of Paying Attention," a series of illustrated wildlife radio essays and true adventure stories heard and seen on NPR, Beth is always watching and listening. From the field or face to face, she raises the bar of attentiveness, for each of us. I introduce her today because she understands the journey of death.

Sacred Journey

Let us revisit the concept that death is NOT a medical event, but a spiritual one. It is sacred but often, only the dying person knows this! Beth told the story of painting a silk scarf to be gifted to a woman with terminal illness. "This will help," said the dying woman as the scarf was draped around her shoulders. When deeply asleep, the scarf could be removed and freshened but otherwise, "Where is my scarf!?" the woman demanded. Beth noted: "the healing scarves I make (unless otherwise requested) contain the Hebrew r'fuah  shleimah (complete healing, the short form of a prayer requesting the complete healing of body and spirit), whereas  a tallit-- a prayer shawl-- is for meditation that is not  necessarily associated with distress. Both are made with kavanah (intention) and offer places of comfort."

Beth also explained, for my benefit, the purpose of the Jewish prayer shawl, Tallit. As it is placed over the head and drawn down over the shoulders, the wearer enters a world of soul and God, absolute truth, the ultimate All. Prayer and meditation should be a journey--of seeking and enlightenment.

'Sacred Dying' is a term coined by the late Dr. Megory Anderson, and a ministry I described in my post Silent Night, Holy Night: Sacred Dying is another reason to write condolence. Whether you are a hospice volunteer, friend or family member of a dying individual, your presence at the deathbed can be uplifting if carefully considered. Vigiling is not for everyone, and Sacred Dying mentors stress that behaviors such as wailing and denial at bedside are disturbing to the journey and work of dying. I encourage readers to sign up for the 10 Tips to Vigil & Establish Sacred Presence.

Comfort objects

Clearly, acknowledging the sacred journey with a special scarf such as those created by Beth Surdut is like hanging a welcome banner:  My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:26

As life, ego and cares falls away, a special object of comfort-- if given with great love-- focuses attention on a good death. Do you remember the scene in the 1981 movie, Arthur, where Dudley Moore brings gifts to his dying butler, Hobson?  The seemingly ridiculous gift of a basketball became a true comfort object--an undemanding companion.

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What would you choose for a comfort object? Is there someone you know who needs one?

Thank you for caring!

Clutter Makes a Mess of Grief: How to Help!

Few people will admit that their possessions have crossed the line from "a little messy" to big problem. From time to time, we may all experience the problem--often in small doses:

• The tee shirt drawer doesn't quite close.
• The coat closet has no room for a visitor's jacket.
• It takes significant excavation to unearth the potato peeler from a tangle of kitchen tools.
• The garage workbench has lost its usefulness, covered with parts, packaging, and paraphernalia.

Fixing Small-Dose Clutter

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A small-dose clutter problem can be resolved in fifteen to thirty minutes, restoring functionality to a space. Common sense consigns the torn and broken to trash; goods that have fallen out of favor become a bag welcomed by a charity store. Some of us logon to craigslist or ebay and turn stuff into cash; freecycle facilitates a feel-good way to connect with someone in your community who can use what you no longer need (craigslist also has a "free stuff" category, and my household has enjoyed many grateful handshakes.)

Heavy Environments

Over the years, I've been in many homes bearing a lifetime's accumulated property. These environments bear a weight that exceeds the measurable:  

• A burden of confusion.
• An expense of duplication.
• The distress of indecision.
• The demand of nostalgia.

I have known people who's estate planning included diligently purging excess "to make it easier for my executors." And I have known folks who become infirm, look around their rooms packed with possessions and say, "the kids will sort it out." 

What is it like to die in a messy room?

No one comes back to complain, but Megory Anderson, founder of the Sacred Dying Foundation, encourages "establishing a sacred presence." She and her team offer many excellent resources for lay and professional use. In her free booklet of vigiling tips, De-clutter the bedside area is number 1! If you believe that death is not a medical event but a spiritual one, the simple practices that invoke honor, respect and sacredness are rich in love but trimmed of turmoil. During active dying, remove from the bed's radius those piles of medical and hygiene supplies, displaced household goods, and even beloved room decor that distracts and act like guy-wires holding tightly to the person who must detach and leave.

When grieving is literally 'a mess'

The time and process of sorting through the belongings of a loved one can be comforting and surprising. "I didn't know she still had that", "She really liked purses!" "Those cases of cereal in the basement are all expired." "Look what he stashed in the crawlspace." Understandably, we will all leave some degree of stuff to be dispersed or disposed of. The window of time to empty a room or residence can depend on a number of things:  policies of a skilled care facility, avoiding the cost of another month's rent, and whether a home will be sold or remain in the family. If your acquaintance with a survivor is familiar, consider offering assistance to sort, pack, and disperse property. 

Sympathetic support: a condolence 'gift'

It is imperative that your assistance be grounded in trust, and a plan of action that is acceptable to all legally responsible survivors. Marie Kondo, a Japanese organizing consultant and author of The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up, and Spark Joy has some interesting tactics for decluttering that can certainly be applied to an entire home clean out.

1. Tackle categories, not rooms (focus reduces the burden)
2. Respect your belongings (take care of what you keep)
3. Nostalgia is a trap (time spent in reverie and sentimentality blur good judgment)
4. Dedicate efforts to the life of the decedent (express this out loud)
5. What you keep you must truly love ("like" or "useful" don't make the cut for a legacy item. See my post on Keepsakes)

Whether your assistance is presented first, in your condolence note or, in a later companionable visit, your offer qualifies as a remarkable condolence gift.

Thank you for caring!

Silent Night, Holy Night: Sacred Dying is another reason to write condolence

My end-of-life work has expanded this year to vigiling at deathbeds.

As a volunteer with a local hospital's No One Dies Alone (NODA) program, I am asked to sit with a dying patient for a few hours. When a family accepts the offer of NODA services, round-the-clock (or specific windows of respite) coverage are scheduled.

Silent Night, Holy Night

During my orientation with Chaplain Diane, I was asked to indicate which 4-hour shifts (in a 24/7 grid) I could serve as a 'compassionate companion.' At first glance, the choices were baffling; my mind quickly shuttled through my commitments and habits and I found myself putting check marks on 4 a.m. to 8 a.m., two days per week. That impulse has been wonderfully rewarding. It is nighttime when most families take a break, go home to rest, give pets attention, and squeeze in other life responsibilities.

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I am called out weekly into what is always a Silent Night, a Holy Night. There are very few vehicles on the roads and it is pure pleasure to descend the ramp to the rebuilt freeway and take my pick of 5 lanes' white concrete streaking by. I say a prayer that my presence be helpful.

It's almost 4 a.m. when I log in at the nurses station. The 4th floor is bright but hushed and I enter the patient room, knowing only his or her name, age, and status for 'universal precautions' (i.e. if communicable infection.) "Hello, Stanley," I say as I approach the bed, "my name is Deborah. I'm going to spend some time with you tonight."

"Doesn't Deborah think about anything else besides death?" Sure, I do. But like anyone else with a passion, responding to a 'calling' delivers unparalleled satisfaction. 

Are you familiar with the dynamic of synchronicity? 

Carl Jung, a 20th century pioneering psychoanalyst, believed in significant connections between thought and occurrence. What we focus on may manifest itself in coincidences that may provide insight, aid and opportunity. I have often expressed that just as we consider birth a momentous occasion, death [and dying] should be honored for its mystery and significance.

Thus I synchronistically found myself in the Dewey Decimal stacks of 291.38. 

Allow me to detour for a moment and explain that the Call Number 291 is Comparative Religions. I do not believe books on dying should be bogged down by religious proscription, shelved A to Z between Atheism and Zoroastrianism. I certainly wouldn't want to find books on dying in Call Number 616, Diseases. May I respectfully suggest a reclassification to 269, Spiritual Renewal or the crux Call Number 218, Humankind. Can I get a Comment from a librarian, please?

I felt at home when my eyes laid on the spine of 291.38A Sacred Dying, Creating rituals for embracing the end of life. This is Megory Anderson's attempt to provide both "testimonial and handbook" on how to "reclaim death and dying for the person going through it." She acknowledges that the hospice movement has returned the family to the farewell, but cautions that solicitous concerns about grieving divert loving attention away from the person actively dying.

A theologian, author, educator and liturgist, Dr. Megory Anderson is the founder and executive director of the Sacred Dying Foundation in San Francisco.


Readers will be inspired by Dr. Anderson's skill and experience in creating meaningful rituals. With her insights and passion for "honoring the final hours of a person's life," she has created a set of tools which family members and caregivers can employ, mindfully, to enhance the transition from physical life. The Sacred Dying Foundation also offers Vigil Training for individuals and institutions.

Sitting Vigil

Sitting vigil is the term for companioning a dying person. It may be a time with or without an exchange of words. In many cases, my patients are in advanced stages of dying, unconscious, in a pain-managed dream state, generally unresponsive. Rhonda Macchello, MD, adjunct faculty medical advisor to the Sacred Dying Foundation notes:

 "Fundamentally, dying is a spiritual process and not a biological one."

That tips over a lot of our assumptions. Whether a dying person is conscious or comatose, comfort measures for the body are secondary. However, it is crucial to create a structured focus on the person dying, and it is imperative to assume full  function of hearing:  auditory input--whether discordant or soothing, has an impact. When caregivers, family and friends surround the deathbed with their veil of sorrow, a good transition is impeded.

Take it outside

It's true:  with few exceptions, the sense of hearing remains to the end of life. Conversation and squabbles among bystanders about medical care and decisions, expenses, funeral, wills, property, estates, fears, resentments, tiredness, inconvenience--and even sorrowful crying--are burdens to the spirit of the dying person. Step out of the room and out of 'earshot'.

Gifts for the dying

Death is sacred because of its mysteries and profound emotion. Stay focused on that. Enhance the reverence with soothing touch, peaceful music, pleasing scents, soft glowing light...
Forgiveness, gratitude, love...

"Rituals transform one state of being into another."

 Dr. Anderson uses the examples of blowing out candles on a birthday cake and rites of passage such as a first driver's license to describe the ritual triggers for thought, insight, and transformation. She acknowledges that religious rituals and symbols can be a part of vigiling if they are meaningful to the dying person, but suggests that personalized rituals will often address deeper issues. A special memento, a favorite toy, a religious article or often, the creative repurposing of an everyday item can be used to exercise the psyche in resolving concerns. The desired outcome is always a readiness to let go of the body, to 'leave'.

I loved her story of taking a sheet from a hospital's linens shelf, and tying knots to represent the concerns of a dying person. As each topic is discussed and 'let go', a knot is untied. Finally, the sheet is liberated to become a huge sail, its four corners held by family members who joyfully loft it overhead. And though this ritual is for the dying, the symbolism of freeing their loved one's soul is deeply comforting to family.

The Music of the Night

On a Silent Night, Holy Night (a vigil), one of the first things I do is turn off the television. Though there is a channel with calm music programming set to nature scenes, the digital broadcast is unreliable. Our NODA program equips a Comfort Cart in each room with a CD player and case of discs. My current favorites are Angel Symphony, Memory Road, and Walk in the Woods.

The melodies take me to deep ponds of gratitude for the person's life:  their humanity, kindness, and courage. I assume the best. I consider them teachers. I forgive their shadows and encourage the true glory of their soul to burst forth from a tired shell.

On a Silent Night, Holy Night- everything is possible.

Sacred dying is another reason to write condolence because life is a spectacular thing. It is note-worthy.

Thank you for caring!